


Diary of A Sanguine Cultist

by danithemani



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alchemy, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Coming of Age, Cuddling & Snuggling, Culture Shock, Domestic Fluff, Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), Drunk Foreplay, Elf/Human Relationship(s), Elf/Nord Relationship(s), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, POV, POV First Person, Past Child Abuse, Post-Coital Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Raceplay, Reluctant Dragonborn, Romance, Rough Sex, Sanguine Rose, Smut, Stenvar has a weird elf kink, Stenvar talks about his ma, The Dragonborn Just Wants To Have A Normal Life, Work In Progress, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danithemani/pseuds/danithemani
Summary: All he wanted was a normal life, one far away from the watchful eyes of the Thalmor. After being caught hiding in a cargo ship bound for Skyrim, a High Elf named Dani finds out he is the Dragonborn of Nordic legends. He tries to balance his budding career as an alchemist, his religious devotions, and the new responsibilities of being a hero in a land he has never visited.  While trying to find himself, our hero finds a purpose. On his way, he meets a Nord mercenary in Candlehearth Inn that will change his life forever. Did I mention he's never been away from home before?Life is hard if you're an angsty yellow teen. But remember - What Would Sanguine Do?*This work is still undergoing extensive editing, please be patient!*





	1. A Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my main storyline for Danier and Stenvar. All smutty fics can be read alongside them easily.
> 
> This work starts out from the point of view of the Dragonborn and will switch to Stenvar's in chapter 4.

He was handsome, if not a little battle-worn. He had soft green eyes and the characteristic jaw and thick, full lips I had learned to appreciate of Nordic men.  He was older than I expected, and I wasn't sure if he could hold his own. I had always been told that humans didn't age well. But, he and his steel armor fit the description, and he was the only mercenary in town. He looked friendly enough, but I didn’t really expect a riveting conversation with anyone from Windhelm. With the things I had heard about this place, I was surprised they let me in the gates. A poor Dunmer woman was being harassed when I walked in and with all this talk of Talos worship in this town, I was worried someone would hand my head on a platter to Ulfric himself.

“Stenvar?” He looked up at me with and examined me head to toe. I felt I tried to remain unflinching as his eyes finally met mine. He didn't move from his chair. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I couldn't shake this man.

“You need a sword?”

“And a strong man to swing it," I replied, trying to sound confident. "The innkeeper said you were the one to talk to about that.” He broke into a smile and I felt myself breathe.

“Good old Hulda. She’s right. 500 gold and I’m yours.” His smile seemed to grow with the last line. “So who needs a few heads smashed this time of night?”

“I’ve been walking for a couple days, so I’m going to stay at the inn tonight. But one good night’s rest and I’ll be fine.” His expression quieted; he seemed more excited to go on this trip that I expected. I decided to get to the point. “Ever been to Markarth?”

“I’ve been everywhere a handful of times. The hot springs make it worth the trip. Nothing helps aching muscles like hot water and cold mead. I’ll tell you though, I’m glad we’re resting here and not on those damned stoned beds.”

“We won’t be spending much time in the city, this trip will be a little off the beaten path. How much experience do you have with the Forsworn?”

He looked surprised. “Enough to know you picked the right man for the job. You don’t look like much of a warrior there, elf.” I felt my brow raise with that last word. He looked me up and down again and added, “then again, you don’t look like much of a wizard either. You're not gonna cart me off as a sacrifice, are you kid?” The stern look on his face left and he let out a hearty laugh. I'm glad he thought it was funny, because my heart almost sank into my chest.

“I’m just an alchemist who needs some backup while finding ingredients.” I bit my lip nervously. It wasn’t a lie, per se.

“Must be pretty expensive ingredients to have to pay for a sellsword behind it,” he eyed me suspiciously and took another sip of his tankard.

I straightened my back up, “Of course they are. A good alchemist only uses the best.”

He rolled his eyes. After putting his cup back down, “Gold is the same to me. It doesn’t matter where you earned it as long as it ends up in my pockets.”

“Good, we leave in the morning then.” I left the money on the table and walked back to my room, nodding nervously to the innkeeper. This was going to be harder than I thought.

* * *

 

The next morning we got an early start and I had a light breakfast, just enough to keep the growling to a minimum. My stomach was in knots at the thought of traveling with someone new, and a big hulking Nord at that. Father had told me horror stories of what Talos-worshippers did in the middle of the night to those they expected to be Thalmor. Of course, I had traveled with Erik for weeks, but Erik was already my friend. He knew the gifts of the Daedra - he was there when Sanguine saved our lives. I started to have second thoughts, that maybe I should try and find someone else to help me. I was a fool to even come to Windhelm, but I had heard of a master alchemist there and I was in desperate need of an inn to rest.

“So what makes you pick up a mercenary?” Stenvar asked, breaking me from my line of thought.

"I told you already, I'm looking for ingredients," I was beginning to become annoyed with him already. "Markarth has a wealth of untapped flora."

"Okay, but, why did you really hire me? Do the plants have tiny swords?" he lifted his hands up to mimic miniature sword-fighting. He really was a ridiculous man, but it made me laugh.

“To tell you the truth, Bretons terrify me," I replied without thinking. "They’re so… slimy." I couldn't believe I just said that out loud. The first time I had stumbled across the Forsworn, I had almost gotten myself killed. It was like my magic did nothing to them. Of course, I wasn't about to tell him that. This was just a quick business trip, he would do the dirty work, I would take him home, and I would be back with Erik and I could go about my life. He didn't need to know I was a mage - or anything else.

"They move too quickly and I'm not really equipped to deal with them,” I rushed out the rest of my sentence. He looked up at me and chuckled. I hadn't noticed our height difference until just now.

“I know what you mean. I don’t like ‘em either, but I’m no wizard. Doesn’t matter to me much. A sword is a sword is a sword.”

“Well, I’ll keep your sword arm steady then,” I answered back, my hands now glowing with a soft golden aura. I immediately regretted showing off.

“I thought you said you weren’t a mage.” His voice was stiff and it put me on edge.

“I’m not,” I began, but his eyes quickly narrowed to meet mine. I was glad the wind was whistling around us; I hoped it would cover up my now faltering voice.

“Okay, I am," I added. "And I know a couple spells, enough to keep myself alive.” I shrugged my shoulders, “but I’m an alchemist, really.”

“Then what in Oblivion are you doing wandering around Forsworn camps in the Reach?”

“Ever heard of Briarhearts?” His eyes looked through me again. He wasn’t buying it.

“Alright, alright. It’s a personal favor for the Jarl there.”

"The Jarl? That's pretty high on the line for a flower picker, ain't it? I've always heard that he isn't very friendly to outsiders."

Even in my nervousness, I was not about to let this stranger reject my abilities as an alchemist. I was about to respond that alchemy entailed much more than picking _flowers_ and that the research that I dedicated to my craft was beyond his comprehension and perhaps even his own years, but a wail quickly broke my train of thought.

"Look out!" I heard metal clash behind me and instinctively flashed a ward. It must have been Stenvar warning me of the charging bandit behind us. He made short work of the thief and with one mighty swing of a greatsword, there was no danger. I stood in front of him flabbergasted, ward still pulsing in both hands, with what must have been a ridiculous look on my face. Effortlessly Stenvar sheathed the weapon onto his back.

"Just doing my job."

He simply smiled back at me. I decided that this might not be the time to debate career superiority. I was just thankful that I wasn't traveling alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://ko-fi.com/C0C8ISCF) If you really, really like my work or are just into sending good vibes in the form of monetary compensation, [Support Me on Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/C0C8ISCF)  
>  Every little bit helps - but my work will always be free and open to the public. Please only help if you can. Thank you so much for reading!


	2. One Drink Too Many

 “Stendarr’s mercy, it’s cold. I don’t know how you stand it," I said, rubbing my hands together. Stendarr's mercy is something they said, right?

“I don’t hardly. Everyone else around here can hardly feel it, but it’s always got to me. It’s something you just have to get used to.”

“Well I feel like I’m about a sunset away from freezing to death, will you help me make a fire?”

He chuckled, but I had a fleeting suspension he was glad I asked.

“Sure, want me to find some kindling or chop the firewood?”

“Just chop some firewood,” I replied. There was conveniently already a chopping block close to where we sat up camp. Well, where Stenvar had set up camp. I was really getting my money’s worth. He had saved my life, pitched a tent, and found some rabbit to roast. I cried when I saw him pick it up and skin it with a dagger, and I just hoped he didn't see it. Of course, I did bring some mead, of which he was very grateful. He took a swig before getting started.

He took off his outermost armor, revealing fur straps over a tight undershirt. From his build and age, I expected a little bit of tubbiness. Sheogorath's divine wisdom was I ever wrong. I watched his muscles ripple under his shirt as he sat his armor down. His wide shoulders were even stronger now that the steel was out of the way. He was much leaner than I would have imagined, but his muscles were thick and his chest was wide. I was trying not to notice. I was disappointed when he kept on the bottom to his armor, but he turned around before my thoughts could come to fruition. Had he noticed me? My face grew warm again, but I chose to blame it on the bottle in my hands instead of the handsome Nord before me. I couldn't believe I was feeling this way. He has a Nord, a heavy, hulking, handsome... Nord. Maybe it was just the mead that brought my thoughts to the lower realms of Oblivion. I wasn't attracted to a Nord, surely. These were simple-minded men who preferred the art of war over the art of wit, who scorned the Daedra and even worshipped false Gods, who... who I wanted to put down the godsforsaken ax and ram inside me right now.

Besides, the feelings were obviously unrequited. I watched him fervently as he moved to his bag and found a tunic, turning his back to me while he changed and didn't seem to notice my attention at all. Maybe it was for the better.

I diverted my eyes to the bottle in my hands, pretending to be immensely interested in the label. It was Honningbrew Mead, given to me by a trio of exuberant Nords on the side of the road, along with a gold enchanted necklace. This really was a strange land. As I was thinking about it, the native population wasn't as savage as I was lead to believe. Their cities were guarded, petty crime didn't seem to run rampant, and I was met with many more friendly faces than angry slurs. Some faces, of course, were friendlier than others. I heard Stenvar start to chop the wood a few feet away and I tried to hide the peeks I was sneaking. Gods, this mead was beginning to go to my head.

He brought the lumber over when he was through and arranged them in a pile, carefully keeping one log off to the side. I heard him mumble something about finding something to start it, and I figured it was finally my cue to help.

“No need for kindling, I’ll start it,” I answered, raising my hands to the fire. Stenvar looked puzzled and quickly regained his composure when my hands started to glow.

“Well that’s useful.” Stenvar pulled a log closer to the now bristling fire. He removed his gauntlets and placed them behind him. He sat with his legs spread, leaned over to sit closer to the fire. "Just a couple spells," he chuckled.

“Just a parlor trick, really,” I replied back. Fire magic isn't too complicated, I thought to myself. I sat on the frozen ground and leaned my back against the log, stretching out my hands and curling up my legs. I wanted to be as close to the fire as I could. Being so close to him was just a bonus.

“You know, one of my favorite things about Skyrim is the flora,” I said, taking another sip. I was never a drinker, in my life, I had probably drunk a cumulative three bottles of mead and only sipped wine. Father was an ardent worshipper of Sanguine, but I had never caught the habit myself.

“You mean the dead grass and snowberries?” Stenvar answered, laughing at the thought. He outstretched his hands to the barren landscape. I suppose I could see his point. There wasn't much to see on the snow-covered tundra, but what you did see stood out so beautifully.

“Skyrim isn’t full of color like I’m used to. The Summerset Isles is golden and bright. You see it everywhere. But there’s something special about this place. It’s…” I looked for words in the distance, but I could see him staring at me. Once again, I felt the cold air touch my blushing cheeks. I was sure it didn't help the color. I struggled for words.

“There’s something strong about Skyrim. Something in the air. Something in the men.”

The last line had slipped out of my mouth before I could realize what I said. His green eyes smiled into mine. He was a stranger to me, he probably didn't even know my name, but there was something about him that I couldn’t shake. Something that gave me a feeling I had never recognized before. I had only known him for a few days, but it seemed like a lifetime. Now that I was thinking about it, our faces were only inches apart, the log taking up the height distance we previously had. I was close enough to feel his breath on my neck. It took me by surprise.

He leaned toward me and pushed his lips gently into mine. My father's words flashed in my mind all over again, it was really happening, just like he said it would. My first instinct was to pull away, to push him off and find somewhere to hide. How would I explain myself if anyone found out? That I had been with a human, a Talos-worshipping Nord, at that. But something kept me there. His lips were cold and big and comforting even as butterflies flew around in my chest. The fear started to drip away. I could feel the warmth of his tongue dance across my lips and I opened my mouth to pull him in closer. I wanted it. He tasted of mead and rabbit; it was something I could get used to. I could feel the scruff of his beard tickle and blend in with my own on my chin. I was usually clean-shaven, but it had been hard to do so now that I was in Skyrim. I had little more than a teenage stubble, but the black hair against my golden skin made it seem much fuller.

I felt a hand slink under my tunic to touch my chest. They were big and cold - as everything else on him seemed to be - and worn rough from years of mercenary work. His calluses caught on my skin and it made me flinch. He immediately took notice and stopped his advances. He moved his head back and looked into my eyes again.

“Are you still comfortable, boss?” He spoke softly, and his eyes were full of laughter. 

I nodded, and he paused for a moment before leaning back in, bare hands once again exploring delicately across my skin. I was surprised by how gentle the man before me was. I realized I wasn't afraid of him. Although I had seen him kill a man earlier, right before my eyes, he didn't scare me a bit. Of course, I had defended myself before - and Skyrim’s harsh landscape called for it much more frequently than I would have liked. But it’s different with magic, it’s a force almost beyond my control, even with years of practice. It’s like the universe flows through my own hands and decides for me. A sword is so, personal. When a bolt of fire leaves one's hands, there is nothing more you can do. It's beyond your control, but you can feel the flesh break against a sword. I shuddered at the idea, though out of disgust of bloodshed, fear of death, or arousal at the power of the man I was kissing, I wasn't sure.

My thoughts were cut off when he pulled away from me again. I immediately missed the warmth of his mouth. I was sure that he could see the growing bulge under my robe, but I tried to ignore it. I didn’t know how far this was going to go. My mind was hoping it would go any farther. Is this just a Nord custom? These sorts of things had to be kept secret back in Summerset Isles. One night trysts were strictly taboo. I realized I didn't know very much about these people. My knowledge of Nordic culture was limited to what I was told before I left the Isles, and I was beginning to get a feeling that some of that was a lie. This man didn't seem like a monster.

“I’ve never kissed an elf before,” Stenvar chuckled. I couldn’t tell if he had noticed my own nervousness, but he didn’t seem to have any himself. He picked up another bottle and opened it. He looked satisfied with that revelation. I wondered to myself how many men - or women for that matter - had felt those same lips.

“I’ve never kissed a human,” I replied. I had hardly kissed anyone, Mer or Man. I had very little experience in the way of relationships, Father always had a watchful eye on me. I started to feel myself panic. What would he say? What would he do? If I was caught... I pushed it out of my head. I swallowed the idea with a gulp of mead, bigger than the paltry sip I had taken before. That was the past now. He wasn’t here now. I took a deep, shaky breath. _He isn’t here now. I'm on my own._ I rolled the bottle between my hands back up my own bottle and looked over at his pile of discarded glass. Stenvar could obviously handle this better than I could. My head was swimming; I wondered how he was able to form sentences at this point.

Without thinking, I laid my head on his chest. I wondered if I had made a mistake, but he wrapped an arm around me. They felt as strong as they looked. He held me lightly across my chest. It was an awkward, but physically comfortable position. As much as I wanted to get closer, I was afraid of pushing forward. So many ideas were flashing in my mind, and I was rapidly thinking more and more with the pressure I felt between my legs rather than my head. I leaned against him, breathing in the cold Skyrim air. I took a chance and got up to get another bottle. I wanted to taste more of him.

When I sat back down, I did so between his widely spread legs instead of beside them. He had such strong, beautiful thighs. I could tell even through the armor that they were thick and muscular, and it made me a little light-headed. Even more so than the mead. I had liquid courage between my fingertips, and I was determined to get this going as far as I could. As the gods would have it, that wouldn't be very far.

"Whoa there, kid," Stenvar interjected, placing one hand firmly on my shoulder, "I don't know if you should do that." My heart sunk and a wave of embarrassment washed over me. I knew it was a bad idea. I didn't even get a chance to try, but he made no effort to push me away or move away himself.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered, by the Gods I could really use it..." he continued, staring at my mouth. His eyes flicked up to meet mine quickly and he shuffled, "I just don't want you to do something you'll regret there, boss."

He removed his grip from my shoulder and roughed up my hair instead. He took a deep breath. His fingers mussed my hair and I sat in silence. I could see from the corner of my eye that I wasn't the only who had a similar thought. He was obviously aroused, and I was more than able to help. Why would he stop me?


	3. A New Day

I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a mouth as dry as tundra cotton. I hazily tried to connect what I could of what happened the night before. I was tucked into a bedroll - but I didn't own a bedroll. I was under a tent, a tent I didn't put up. As I was trying to get my thoughts together, I noticed there was a note on the floor beside me.  _This isn't Sanguine again, surely_ , I thought.

Stenvar left to catch some game, or so he had wrote, and I was grateful. It wasn't a Daedric prince, but I wasn't disappointed. I finally had some time alone, and I had a pressing matter to take care of, and it was becoming more pressing by the minute. I had to take this opportunity or I wouldn't be fit for travel. I took the matter into my own hands, or rather, hand, and let my imagination wander.

The air was warm and smelled of venison and strong drink. We were in a comfortable inn and I could hear the fire crackling in the room over. Stenvar was sitting down, beginning to take off his armor. He started with his chest plate, revealing again the hard muscles of his broad shoulders. They rippled as he moved. I could feel my face getting warm again, and this time he took notice. He laughed and He took off his steel boots to reveal toned calves. He had thick, muscular thighs. Thighs I was so close to seeing up close and personal last night...

"Hey, boss!"

Oh, Gods, he was going to catch me. I rushed to cover myself. Wasn't he supposed to take longer than that? He stuck his head in the tent and caught me trying to hide my evidence.

"Ah, I see. Glad to see while I was getting breakfast you were chopping wood for the fire, huh?" Stenvar practically cackled. "Want any help with that?" he continued, eyeing the tent of my robe. "'Course, if you'd rather, I could just leave it to you." I was at a loss for words.

"But, yesterday-"

"Yesterday you could barely get up off the floor. Give me a couple hundred gold and I'll crack a few heads, but that," he stopped for a minute, looking to the ground. "It's bad business." Was he not attracted to me at all? My head was spinning and I was trying to figure out what to say.

"Well, if it was a mistake-"

"That isn't what I meant." He caught me off again.

"But you turned me down."

"I know. I had to," he looked into my eyes. "Kid, listen, it was my fault. I shouldn't have kissed you like that, I-"

"I liked it," I cut him off this time. I liked it then, and I like it now, sober and with a headache." He chuckled again. I was regaining my confidence. And my erection.

"Well. I suppose we should get introduced, then."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I can't jerk you off without even knowing your name first."

"I uh-"

"There isn't any rush," he stopped me before I made a fool of myself. "Really, if you just wanted it to be a kiss, it can be. But if you do want any help, we need to know each other a little better. A boss only needs gold," his voice shifted to a softer tone, "but a lover needs a name." I was practically in shock. This was even better than I had imagined, even if I had the time to get there.

"Dani," I managed to say, "uh, with an I." Stupid, I thought, he didn't ask how to spell it.

"Dani, huh? Doesn't sound like any Elf name I've heard before." He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, that's kinda cute. I like it," he replied. "Hey Dani, mind if I come in? Don't wanna throw my back out before we even get started." Before I had a chance to answer, he was in the tent, sitting on the ground beside me. I scooted closer to the tent wall and he climbed in. 

"I didn't catch anything, but I was on my way and this bandit just jumped me." As he was talking, he was shuffling around and making himself comfortable. The situation was absolutely nerve-wracking for me, but he didn't seem to mind one bit. "He knicked my arm, but he had a few days rations on him. Figure it will last us at least one good meal." I guess that worked just as well.

"Don't stop on my account. Are you sure it's alright if I watch?" he asked. I nodded and pulled up my robes to my chest. I always thought I was well-endowed for my age, but had always been a little grossed out by the thick veins that lead from the base to my tip. I was a dusty gold color to match the rest of my skin.

"So that's what an elf looks like," he said to himself. A saw a smile creep across his lips again, "sure, feel free to hand me all the gold you want." A rush of amber blushed over my face and he grabbed my hand. He rubbed his thumb over my fingers and leaned in to kiss me again. He pressed his chest into mine, and I sank a little lower so we were eye-level. He was a big brute of a man, but I was much taller. I got a rush of excitement as his tongue pressed through my lips and I could feel myself twitch against his hard stomach. This time, he twisted a hand into the back of my hair to hold me close. I let him lean into me, and I was close to being on my back. At this point, I didn't mind. I was hoping things would escalate quickly. He was strong and handsome and... gods help me, I wanted to feel him inside me. 

"Would you be a better angle if you leaned against me?" he asked, pulling away from the kiss.

"I think so, Stenvar," I answered, trying to assert confidence with his name. I wanted to, by all of Sanguine's glory, I wanted to. I wanted him to see me twist and moan while I was thinking of him, to feel his body pressed against mine. I didn't want him to go away.

He started to take off his armor, revealing pants tight against his thighs. Those same thick thighs I was dreaming about only moments before. It made my mouth practically water at the sight. He moved behind me and as I leaned into him, he placed a hand on my stomach. It was cold and much paler than my own. And he had the most immaculately kept cuticles. I thought about mentioning it, but I could feel his lips press against my neck, distracting me again.

I closed my eyes and began to move my hand. I could feel him watching my every move, and I wondered what he was thinking. I knew what I was thinking about. I pictured myself on my back, under him, his big hands in my hair again. I wanted to feel him between my legs, pulsing inside of me. In reality, his tongue darted across my neck and I pressed against his mouth. I was just beginning to pick up a nice rhythm when he took his lips away.

"Can I help, Dani?" he whispered in my ear. I nodded, biting my lower lip. I wanted to beg. To my surprise, his hands didn't move to my shaft but to the heaviness of my balls. He cupped them gently, rolling them between his fingers. I had never thought to try that before, but it was amazing. After examining them with the palms of his hands, he found a position to roll them with his thumb. I was pulsing with excitement. I noticed that I could feel how excited he was behind me, and that encouraged me to pick up the pace. He went back to work on my neck, his beard brushing softly against my skin. I laid my head on his chest and moaned quietly, trying not to be loud enough to embarrass myself.

It didn't take long until I felt like I was ready to explode. I didn't want it to end. Stenvar moved his other hand to my tip, and when I finished, caught it in his hand. My face was warm and I buried it in the comfort of his chest. He brought his hand, warm and wet from my efforts, up to my lips. I could feel him smile against my neck.

"Wanna taste?" he whispered again. His voice made me shiver. I parted my lips and allowed him to push his fingers into my mouth, even as they were dripping with my own seed. It was warm and salty and the slightest bit sour. I sucked on his fingertips for a moment until my tongue darted down to his palms to clean him off completely. He rubbed the soft scruff of my beard with his thumb. It felt so dirty. I was loving it.

He continued to work on my balls and kept his hand up to my face. My nervousness was leaving quickly and was replaced by the reminder of Stenvar's own cock pressing into my back. 

"I liked that a lot," Stenvar said. I could feel him pressing against me.

"Me too," I replied, panting into his chest. He moved his free hand to hold my hair again and my head moved with it.

  
"You're a pretty little elf, aren't you?" Stenvar purred, holding my braids in his big hands. He looked deep into my eyes. It took me by surprise. No one had ever spoken to me like that. Especially not a human. A Nord brute. My face flushed again and I felt myself stiffen between my legs. Again. I had never been called that before, but I was beginning to think I liked it. He leaned forward and kissed me gently, licking the excess off of my lip. "I could get used to this," he whispered, and let go off my hair.

"Well," he said simply, sitting up, "let's go get that grub. It isn't getting any warmer."

* * *

Breakfast was a hardy helping of cabbage stew, bread, and a few horker loafs. Stenvar washed his down with another mead, but after last night, I opted for a jug of milk. He sat across from each other by the fire. It had only been an hour, but I already missed being in his arms. I wondered if he felt the same way about me.

"So boss, where we heading to?" Stenvar asked between bites of bread.

"Red Eagle Redoubt," I replied, and he almost spit his drink back into his tankard.

"Red Eagle? The crazy Breton that sold his soul to a Hagraven?"

I shrugged. "I guess so. That's what I got from the steward and this book, anyway." I reached over to my knapsack and pulled out _The Legend of Red Eagle_. "I don't think he'll be there, Stenvar. He is dead, you know."

"Well, I know that," he replied curtly. His quick change of expression made me laugh and his face grew red.

"Are you after the sword?" he asked, trying to change the subject slightly.

"Not particularly. I'm not convinced its even still there." I stopped to look across the fire to see the Nord in front of me.

"How do you know so much about Red Eagle?" I asked.

"My ma used to read me a lot of books as a kid," he shrugged. "My favorite ones were adventure stories."

"Is that why you grew up to become a mercenary?"

"That, and to put food on the table," Stenvar replied harshly. I guess it was a sensitive subject. I made a note not to ask anymore.

"So when are you going to be ready to leave?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"After breakfast. I'm ready to kill something." I rolled my eyes. I guess he was one of _those_ Nords.

"Didn't you just-" I was interrupted.

"Didn't count. Had to get you something to eat, didn't I?" He answered, wiping the crumbs from his silver beard.

"Well, as soon as you're done there then."

I picked myself up off the ground and walked back into the tent. This conversation was getting unbearable.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins with Stenvar's point of view.

Damn it. Had I been too cross with him? The tension was eating me alive... Had I moved too soon? Was I pushy? Did I scare him?

This elf was giving me some mixed signals. The day he hired me seemed reluctant to even look me in the eyes, but as soon as I set up camp, he acted like he hadn't seen a dick in years. It took me off guard, and I couldn't risk him changing his mind the next morning. But when I walked in on him today, something in me came alive. I realized it had been awhile since I had seen any myself. It was like being with the kid lit a fire inside of me. All the tension and nervousness melted away when I put my hand on his waist, and then it moved south when I wrapped my hand around him. 

We moved in time with each other. His body was so different than mine, golden and lean and impossibly young. Was he too young? How old did an elf have to be before... I pushed the thought away, he certainly seemed old enough just a few moments ago. I had never seen an elf naked before.

 

**Author's Note:**

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